Best Friends Always Tell the Truth
by mindprisoner
Summary: They'd told him time and time again: Don't leave the base without your helmet.


Caboose is less than smart.

This was established on his first day in Blood Gulch, when he let the "General" take the flag, leading to Church's death, and the arrival of a Freelancer with a bad attitude, which ultimately lead to even more misfortune.

Caboose was never a big fan of the helmets.

His made his hair all tangled and sweaty, and he didn't like how the visor made everything orangish-blue tinted. Caboose likes his world colorful, thank you very much. And thus, our favorite soldier clad in Regulation Blue often went helmetless on patrol. Or, rather, he tried to.

"Caboose, for fuck's sake, if you go out there without a _goddamn _helmet, you'll die!" Church said, hands rubbing at his helmet's temples in some attempt to relieve a headache that he doubtfully had, being a ghost possessing a robot and all.

"But-" Caboose argued.

"No buts!" Church snapped.

"Always butts!" Tucker called from another room. "Bow chicka bow wow!"

"Shut up!" Church shoved Caboose's helmet in his hands. "Just wear it so we don't have to deal with another Freelancer out here!"

Caboose slid the helmet on and locked it into place. He grabbed his Battle Rifle and jogged out the door. "Hi, Sheila!" He called.

"Hello, Caboose! Are you out on patrol today?"

"Yep!"

"Oh, I won't bother you then. Come visit after you're finished!"

Caboose smiled and unlatched his helmet. He wouldn't take it off-not yet at least- but the open safety latches did provide a nice airflow to his face. Strolling alongside the cliff, Caboose turned around and peered back at Blue Base to make sure neither Tucker or Church were watching, and after seeing they weren't, he pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm. He knew the Reds wouldn't attack; he'd heard Church telling Tucker how boring it was because the Reds never attacked unless the teams were even. Caboose continued on his patrol up to the Halfway Point, which had been agreed upon by both armies that neither side would cross without want for bloodshed.

* * *

Sarge had his trusty shotgun trained on Caboose as he neared the Halfway Point. Despite his shotgun being more effective at close range, the Blue idiot had taken off his helmet, and left his cranium completely defenseless. "Donut," he said, "be ready to throw that grenade on my mark."

"You got it, Sarge!" Donut beamed. "I'll throw everything I've got at him! He won't be able to walk when I'm done!"

"Donut, how about you just shut up?" Grif commented.

"At least he's doing something," Simmons retorted. Grif was indeed lounging against one of the base top sticky-up wall thingies on the other side of the roof.

"Oh, I'm _always_ doing something," Donut added.

"Ok, you know I hate to agree with Grif, but, Donut, shut up," Simmons said, refocusing on aiming at Caboose.

"All of you, shut up!" Sarge said. "He's almost to the Halfway Point..."

* * *

Caboose put half of his foot over the Halfway Point. Sarge fired his shotgun, and due to the great distance that is half of Blood Gulch, the shot scattered, and Caboose was spared from instant death.

Barely.

The shot dented his armor; with his helmet off, his shields had no way of working at max capacity. Had Caboose's hemet been on, it would've bounced off harmlessly, and he probably wouldn't've even noticed. However, Caboose certainly noticed the pain and blood on his face.

He turned and ran away as fast as he could back to Blue Base.

* * *

"Should I throw it now, Sarge?" Donut asked.

"No, we got him on the run! I want to see their little blue faces scream in terror at the superior color and army that is Red!" Sarge triumphantly said. "SUCK IT, YOU DIRTY BLUE!"

* * *

"Church! Church! CHUUUURRRCH!" Caboose yelled, flying into Blue Base.

"Caboose, for the last time, there is no way that a snake can bite you through your armor!"

"No! They shot me!"

"They what? Shit!" Church jogged in and saw Caboose, who was bleeding from multiple places on his face. "Oh hell, TUCKER!"

"WHAT?"

"BRING ME THE MED KIT!"

Tucker walked in at a leisurely pace carrying the med kit. That leisurely pace quickly turned into something quite a bit faster when he saw the state that Caboose was in, now sitting against a wall at Church's command. "Damn, I thought you just got blown up by Sheila again!"

"You were walking that slow when you thought I got BLOWN UP BY A SENTIENT TANK?"

"Shit happens."

"Whatever! How much medicine do you know?" Church started frantically pulling stuff out of the medkit he thought they'd need to treat Caboose: Gauze, tweezers, that stingy stuff you put on scraped knees, cotton balls, duct tape.

"What? You want me to treat a gunshot wound to the face?" Tucker's medical experience included totally not crying that one time when he got a paper cut and putting a sparkly bandage on it.

"Then go take Sheila and blow the fuck out of the Reds!" Church was totally calm about the amount of blood coming out of Caboose. And by totally calm, I mean barely holding it together. It was a LOT of blood.

Tucker ran out and after a few hurried words to Sheila, she very calmly adopted a blood-chilling tone ("They hurt Caboose? Let's go return the favor, and let's give their base a nice, _blood red_ paint job while we're at it!") and opened her hatch to let Tucker climb in. The two sped off towards Red Base, and fired square at the roof, where the Reds barely had time to jump into the base.

"Caboose, what happened?!" Church frantically wiped the blood off Caboose's face.

"I was patrolling, and I must have crossed the Line!" Caboose said, his voice starting to quiver. "And...I-I took my helmet off."

Tears started trickling from Caboose's eyes.

"_Shit!"_ Church muttered under his breath. He wasn't sure if he should be annoyed that Caboose took his helmet off or annoyed that Caboose was crying. "Alright, alright, alright. None of that crying shit. I'm gonna get you fixed up, you got that?" Church's words would've been much more effective if he didn't say it with such uncertainty that he didn't even convince himself.

Seeing that the blood wasn't going to stop so easily, Church focused his attention on the sources; one next to his eye, one long mark (this one must've just grazed him) just past his temple, one in the middle of his cheek, and two by his mouth. The one in his cheek and by his eye looked like they still had shot in them.

"Hey, Caboose?"

Caboose didn't respond, he just looked pitifully up at Church.

"I'm about to do something that might hurt a little, but you'll feel a lot better after, ok?" Church grabbed the tweezers. He _had_ to get that shot out. Who knew if it was poisoned, or what? "Close your eyes for a second, I'll tell you when I'm done."

Caboose closed his eyes, and Church immediately tackled the shot next to his eye. It didn't help that he had about half the light required, and he was shaking slightly from the whole experience. The shot was slippery with blood, and it took him three tries to remove it. "Alright, Caboose, one more, and then we're done." Caboose whimpered in response. It only took Church two tries to get the cheek sot out. "Done."

Church turned to the medkit and pulled out gauze and cotton because damn if he couldn't get that bleeding to stop. "Hey, Church, you know you're my best friend, right?"

Church froze. He normally would have responded something along the lines of "shut the hell up" or a very sarcastic "of course, Caboose," but the way Caboose said it hit Church in the wrong way. It sounded so...so _sad._ So helpless. Everything Caboose, happy-go-lucky I'll-flip-a-goddamned-tank-and-not-break-a-sweat Caboose, wasn't. He hadn't sounded half this said when Church shot him in the foot.

"Yeah, Caboose, I know." If Church had had a human body instead of the robot one he currently possessed, he probably would've been unable to respond due to a lump in his throat.

"And am I your best friend?"

Caboose looked up at Church with those eyes. _Those damn blue eyes_. The eyes that somehow managed to be the exact same Regulation Blue Caboose wore. The eyes that were normally shining with joy and laughter and a little bit of dim-wittedness-ok, a lot of dim-wittedness- were full of pain and shining now not with joy, but with tears.

"Yeah." That was all Church could manage to get out with the wall of emotions overcoming him.

"And best friends always tell eachother the truth, right?"

Church nodded in response.

"Am I going to die?" The tears came faster now, and Caboose started to shake trying not to sob.

Church had no answer for Caboose. The wounds were shallow, yes, but he was losing blood at an alarming rate.

Church had no answer for Caboose. Instead, Church held him in a warm embrace and let Caboose sob into his shoulder, getting blood and tears and snot all over him.

* * *

"Oh, my God," Tucker said, returning from the Operation Blow Up the Reds to find the other two members of his team in a loving embrace asleep on the floor. "What the _fuck_ did I miss?"

Church blinked awake. He quickly discovered that he was pinned down by Caboose's sleeping form. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Sure, sure."

Caboose yawned and slowly sat up. His eyes quickly got wide. "Church! I am alive!"

"Yeah, but you're killing me!"

Caboose quickly stood up.

"You got some dried blood on your face," Tucker said. He leaned in closer to inspect the wounds. "Really, Church? That's what you were freaking out about? They're barely scratches!"


End file.
